


Myosotis

by SomeCoolName



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Amnesia, Canon Disabled Character, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Erik is a Sweetheart, Eventual Happy Ending, Hank Being Awesome, M/M, Memory Alteration, Poor Charles, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 13:45:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8892949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeCoolName/pseuds/SomeCoolName
Summary: When Charles got back from Cuba, he lost the two things which made him stand: his legs and the love of his life, Erik Lehnsherr. Charles can get used to the wheelchair but he won't ever be able to get pass the loss of Erik. 
"I wish I never met him" is something Charles says one night, maybe a bit drunk, absolutely wrecked for sure. It's a bit silly but Charles figures out his only solution is to use his own powers to erase Erik from his mind, progressively. 
Except one day Erik comes back to the Xavier mansion to win him back. And even if Charles doesn't want to stop forgetting about him, Erik will do anything he can to convince him otherwise.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MayaHolmes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayaHolmes/gifts).



> Hello everyone!
> 
> Here's a gift to my wonderful friend, Maya Holmes, for her birthday. It's a story I wanted to write for a few months now and I'm very glad to share it with all of you.  
> Maya, you're my right-arm, my Sebby, my everything else too. I hope you'll like this story!
> 
> Looots of kisses and hugs to the wonderful artist Mikanskey who drew the cover art that can be found at the end of the story.
> 
> Not beta'd but many thanks to Nalou and Nauss for their help!
> 
> Enjoy your reading :)
> 
> **Please, check the end notes before reading if the tags scare you a bit. After some comments I received, I feel like some people might be troubled by some aspect of this story :)**

**30.**

 

It feels nice, laying here on the sand. Warm and soft sand. Plus, it’s a beautiful day, sun is high in the sky, temperature’s good. Yes, it does feel nice. Well, it should.

 

_ Not now _ . 

 

Moira is holding him, he tries to lift himself up thanks to Beast’s help. It must be Alex and Sean behind him. But it’s breathless.  _ He’s _ breathless. 

 

“I… actually I… I can’t feel my legs.” 

 

Charles can try over and over, but his body still won’t let him stand up. 

 

That’s how it starts.

  
  


* * *

 

 

**29.**

 

One month in the hospital is at the same time too much and it passes too quickly. Charles can’t wait to be back at the Xavier mansion and yet, he wonders how he’s going to manage the fact he’s going to  _ roll _ now, instead of  _ living _ in his  _ own _ place. 

 

A nurse, Tiffany, will be there, at first. Her cousin is a mutant, so she’s okay with working for Charles. Plus, Moira says she’s going to help. 

 

(Charles doesn’t want her too. Charles doesn’t say anything.)

  
  


* * *

 

 

**28.**

 

Tiffany is fun. She’s quite small, blond with big brown eyes and a mole close to her lips that she’s ashamed of, but it makes her unique. Charles notices it, but Charles can’t say it out loud, when she makes him do some exercises for his legs. 

 

Nor when she pushes his wheelchair for a  _ walk _ in the park. 

 

Nor when she helps him to take his bath. 

 

It’s not because what they’re sharing is somehow both intimate and professional. Truth is, it’s because Charles doesn’t speak very much since he’s got back from Cuba. 

 

Nor,  _ at all _ . 

  
  
  


* * *

 

 

**27.**

 

“Tell me you want me to stay.”

 

Charles looks up. He’s sitting ( _ slumping on _ ) his thick brown leather chair in his private office. Moira is standing next to the door, not quite in the room, but not in the hallway either: a reflection of their relationship the last few months. 

 

“Do you want me to tell you to stay ?” his voice is hoarse, maybe whisky at breakfast wasn’t such a brilliant idea. 

 

“No, Charles, I want you to be honest.” She’s looking at him deep in the eyes - she’s able to do that. Lucky her. 

 

“Then I don’t want you to stay, Moira.” It’s true and it should be painful, but pain isn’t something he feels since there’s morphine in his life. Instead, he feels blank. 

 

“Alright,” she breathes in through her nose and nods. She closes the door when she leaves and Charles automatically rests his fingers on his own temple. He unashamedly dives in her mind and takes a look at her own vision. He sees the suitcase she’s carrying with her. She already packed her things before she went to see him. How sagacious. 

 

In the end, whisky instead of the traditional five o’clock tea does work pretty well. 

 

* * *

  
  


**26.**

 

Charles is reading a book forgot by one of the students, in the main living-room. He might be giving up on real life, but at least books are his salvation. There’s a hand on his shoulder so he turns his head and meets Hank’s gaze.

 

“Aren’t you sleeping?” Charles asks.

 

“It’s eight in the morning. How long have you been awake?”

 

_ Two days? A bloody lifetime? Who cares? _

 

“Professor, can I say something?” 

 

“Sure,” _ I might not listen, though.  _

 

“How do you feel?”

 

“My back doesn’t hurt anymore, Hank. Tiffany did an amazing job but she couldn’t do more, I’ve known that since the beginning of rehabilitation. It’s perfectly normal that she left, you know. She has other patients to take care of.”

 

“I know that, I wasn’t thinking about her. I was thinking about Moira.”

 

Hank usually doesn’t speak and for the first time, Charles figures out he might like  _ Silent-Hank _ more.

 

“That’s okay, really,” he sighs, and it  _ is _ . “Don’t worry, it’s like my back. I don’t feel anything,” he smiles despite himself, how ironic it is that everything now has to do with his broken spine. 

 

“Yeah, that’s the problem.” 

 

“It’s the morphine,” Charles explains, shrugging.

 

“Morphine isn’t the cause of your depression, professor.”

 

Alright, maybe Hank has a point here.

  
  


* * *

 

**25.**

 

He finds his shrink thanks to one of the doctors he met at the hospital where he spent a month. Her office is in New Rochelle, at an one-hour drive from the mansion. Hank is driving him everytime, then he waits in the car. 

 

She must be the same age as Charles, maybe a bit older, but by not much. The first thing he tells her is how relieved he is to have found a  _ female  _ shrink. She nods, frowning, writes something on her notepad and asks:

 

“Why is that?”

 

_ Because men are mean. They pretend they love you, then they put a bloody bullet in your spine.  _ That’s what Charles is thinking about, without being able to say it out loud. Instead, he cries.

 

It helps.

  
  


* * *

 

 

**24.**

 

At least, school is doing great. Kids are coming from all over the country and most of them are accompanied by their parents the first time. They’re less and less abandoned and Charles  _ does _ feel happy about that. 

 

Charles  _ feels _ , more and more. But it’s still muffled by a sadness he just can’t get out of right now. Thanks to his weekly session with his shrink, he’s conscious that his mind is living in a well. He doesn’t see the ladder that will help him to get out of it for now, but he might use the stones to lift himself up. Maybe he’ll be able to do that, once he finds his strength back. 

 

There are two kids, Leo and Anthony, who are often skipping class. Hank informs Charles and Charles tells him he trusts him enough to take care of that matter.

 

(He doesn’t know how it happened, but somehow, Hank became his right-arm, when it comes to Charles’ position as the director of the  _ Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters _ .)

 

It’s almost eight when Hank knocks on Charles’ office door. 

 

“Is dinner ready?” he asks, driving away from his desk. 

 

“Yes. By the way, I found out what Leo and Anthony have been doing when they weren’t in class.”

 

“Not something foolish, I hope?”

 

“No…” Hank smiles despite himself. “They were just kissing. They’re teenagers. I told them they could spend time with each other  _ after  _ class instead of just skipping it,” he shrugs and that’s all _. _

 

Hank just told Charles he saw two young men kissing and he doesn’t seem to mind for one bit. 

 

Dinner goes well, it’s delicious. Melinda’s mutation might be her scales on her skin but Charles’ convinced she can do some magic when she cooks. 

 

For the first time in months, Charles helps Hank checking all the kids are going back to their bedrooms. He’s the one who locks the main door and they meet again in the center of the entrance. 

 

“Goodnight, professor.”

 

“Hank, wait.”

 

Hank turns around, not frowning exactly but there’s still a hollow between his eyebrows.

 

“I’m not sure I’ve thanked you enough for everything you’re doing for this school.”

 

“My pleasure, professor.”

 

Charles still hangs on his tongue the desire to ask Hank to spend more time with him. Maybe next time.

 

* * *

 

 

**23.**   
  


  
Next time happens when Charles is done with another shrink session and there are as much tears running down his cheeks as there’s rain pouring all around them. Both make it impossible for Hank to drive right now.

 

“Charles…” Hank starts but doesn’t finish. He doesn’t blame him, though, Charles himself isn’t sure what’s left to say. “Do you want me to drive along the seaside first? Just to ease your mind a bit… maybe?”

 

“It’s because of Erik,” Charles sobs, screams, yields, at the same time. 

 

It’s not silent in the car, it can’t be with the rain, the wind and -  _ gosh _ \- the  _ thunder _ . Charles does his best to calm his breathing. 

 

“I go to see Dr. Fimming every week and I can’t tell her that.” 

 

He’s looking at his own hands, shivering on his laps. He’s massaging them hard, without a real purpose, maybe to be sure this isn’t a nightmare. Maybe to hurt himself a bit more. But nothing is as painful as to see his hand not holding another one. It’s a primal reflex that makes him stretch it out and reach for Hank’s. He tightens his fingers so hard but Charles feels like he could  _ die _ if he is to release Hank’s hand right now. 

 

Hank interlaces their fingers. Rain stops falling but not Charles’ tears. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

**22.**

 

In the end they eat at a restaurant near the sea. They drink a bit too much but somehow Hank is able to drive them safely back home. Hank called the school to warn the other professors they shouldn’t wait for them so it’s no surprise they’re all sleeping when they arrive. The fact it’s two in the morning also explains the stillness. 

 

Hank lifts Charles to his bedroom and stays with him for the first time. There’s a bottle of alcohol next to Charles’ bed and it goes from Charles’ lips to Hank’s. 

 

“You loved him,” Hank suddenly says, when there’s no restraint anymore thanks to Jack -  _ Daniel’s _ . 

 

“Yes. But that’s not the worst part,” Charles closes his eyes, runs a hand over his eyelids and smiles. “Worst part is he loved me back. And now he’s gone.” 

 

Charles’ head is so heavy, it turns on his right without he wanted it to. He opens his eyes and here it is, his wheelchair, a few feet away from him. 

 

“I can get used to the chair, Hank. I’m already getting used to it. But I can’t get used to his absence.” 

 

He turns his head back to Hank on his left, lying on his belly, above the sheets, and Hank whispers.

 

“We have to do something about it, then.”

 

The use of _we_ never made Charles feel so not alone.

 

* * *

 

  
  


**21.**

 

There are a lot of renovation works to do at the mansion, given the fact there are now more than seventy students at the school. There’s a whole aisle that is not used and it’s Alex’s idea to renovate it. It’s too dangerous for Charles to go on the first floor with his wheelchair, as it isn’t secured, so it’s Hank who spends a day checking everything that needs to be done, before he draws a list to Charles. Charles doesn’t read it, but tells him he did, just so Hank can quickly start hiring workers. Charles trusts Hank more than anyone now. 

 

That’s why Hank is the only one who is allowed to enter his office, or bedroom for that matters, without knocking. But today he does and Charles is lying on one of the sofa of his private office, reading a comic he confiscated from one of his student. 

 

“Knocking now? Feeling like you should show me you’re a well behaved boy?” he smirks, turning his head to his friend and  _ damn it _ he would have never said that stupid remark if he knew Hank was accompanied by one hell of a man. 

 

Even if Charles could stand, the man would still be way taller than he is. He has ginger hair and a sloven beard through which Charles can still see his pale skin. His hair are attached behind his head by an elastic band and his eyes are…  _ green _ ? Charles can’t tell from where he is. The two obsessions that are hitting him in the guts right now are equally:  _ this man looks like Erik _ and  _ this man is gorgeous as hell _ . 

 

“Professor, this is James Stephens, the carpenter who will take care of the East aisle.”

 

Hank’s not even finished that Charles is already sitting up straight in the sofa, erasing all evidences he’s sometimes not a respectable director. 

 

“Welcome,” he stretches out a hand and the man - _ James _ , what a lovely name - comes to shake it. 

 

Firm and tepid. How pleasant.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Can you please prepare the checks, Professor? I have to take care of Lydia, she burnt her bedroom again…”

 

Charles looks at James who tenderly smiles, “My brother is a Mutant too so I know what you guys are doing here. I think you’re very brave for creating such a school. It’s terrific.”

 

Charles had no idea he could still blush at someone’s words. 

 

Hank nods and leave them, closing the door behind him. Charles lifts himself to settle in his wheelchair again and drives to his desk, followed by James. He knows the amount he needs to write, Hank repeated it this morning so he prepares the checks.

 

“Do you think you’ll enjoy the works you’ll be doing here?”

 

“I beg your pardon?” James asks with a wide smile, not following him.

 

“I prefer when the people who are working for me enjoy what they're doing. It’s… nicer this way,” he has trouble saying the last words as his gaze stops on James’ face. 

 

He’s  _ genuinely _ beautiful. His nose is the perfect shape (it’s not as big as Charles’), the two large wrinkles around his mouth are the only proof Charles needs to know the man is smiling all the time and his eyes  _ are _ green. 

 

“I think I’ll enjoy it very much indeed,” James says, before taking the checks he’s not even reading to see if the amount is correct. Charles sees him to the main door and stupidly waves his hand to say goodbye one last time, before James’ Chevrolet disappears behind the pines. 

 

Charles bumps into Hank ten minutes after that, his friend is drinking an orange juice in the kitchen.

 

“Is Lydia doing okay? Do we have another bed for her?”

 

Hank raises one eyebrow, clearly not following what the professor is saying… and Charles understands.

 

“Lydia didn’t burn her bedroom again. You left us on  _ purpose _ ,” he grins, bewildered. “Why?”

 

“What do you think of James?” Hank asks, smiling.

 

Charles raises his nose in a very posh way and pours himself a glass of orange juice too.

 

“Fine, I guess.”

 

“I’m straight, Charles, but even I wouldn't say  _ nice _ .” 

 

“... Alright. Hot as hell,” Charles confesses.

 

“Good,” Hank nods. 

 

Today was definitely unexpected.

 

* * *

  
  


**20.**

 

The workers are so fast, soon Charles is able to visit the East aisle. There’s always music on this side of the mansion, as the men bring their radios with them. At first, he goes with Hank, because it’s easier to have someone who can push him, when he needs to. Then he goes alone, because it’s easier to be alone to check out James’ ass. Hands. Charles means  _ hands _ . 

 

“It’s not too hard?” Charles asks one day, when James stops and comes to take a glass of water, next to his wheelchair.

 

“What?” James wonders, a bit breathless by his effort, smiling like the man has never known sadness or anger once in his lifetime. 

 

Charles’ very particular humor wants to say  _ Your cock when you see me _ , but James takes off his tank top to wipe his sweaty face and Charles forgets altogether his stupid joke and his name and everyone’s name. 

 

“Charles?” James asks again.

 

“Let me go grab some more water for you guys,” Charles mumbles, putting the tray on his knees. 

 

“Wait,” James says, slowly kneeling in front of him and Charles can obey that order. “I don’t even know what your mutation is.”

 

That creates a sad smile on Charles’ lips, “Do you really want to know?”

 

“Of course, I’d like to know more of you.”

 

_ Why _ , Charles wants to ask, but maybe he’s hoping for a too optimistic answer like  _ Because I like you _ , and he doesn’t want to get his heart broken again.

 

_ Wow, _ has he really made a connection between James and his heart right now?

 

“Unless you don’t want to tell me, which is fine.”

 

“I’m a telepath,” Charles hurries to say before he changes his mind.

 

James’ eyes open wide, clearly he wasn’t expecting this. He doesn’t speak right away and fills the silence by nodding. 

 

“So, do you read my mind?”

 

“I don’t. Never without someone’s consent.” 

 

“Too bad. It would have helped me to ask you out without opening my mouth.”

 

Charles’ heart sinks somehow in his stomach and  _ yes _ , there’s something happening between his most vital organ and James’ presence. 

 

“I would say yes.  _ FIY _ ,” Charles smiles, faintly.

 

“Do you like Greek food?”

 

“Never tried it.”

 

“Can we go someday? I’ll drive you back home before midnight, I swear.”

 

“I’m not a princess,” Charles says, flirty.

 

“You’d have to prove me that.”

 

When the day is over and the workers are long gone, everyone is asleep in the mansion, except for Charles’ brain, fantasies and hand. He’s touching himself, hidden under his blanket, for the first time in…  _ for the first time since Cuba _ , shit, that’s depressing. He doesn’t get hard for a bit but somehow he doesn’t care. He thinks about James’ calloused hands on his body, about his magnificent lips on his. Finally, when his flaccid cock doesn’t get him anywhere, he pinches one of his nipple and he  _ arches _ at the touch. He never touched himself here before Erik used to -

 

_ No.  _

 

James. Charles must be thinking about  _ James _ . The low voice of sweet James, the way his american accent says  _ Charles _ , like he’s a cowboy, ready to break Charles’ face with his harsh kisses. James with his blond hair, his long fingers, the way he kisses every freckles on Charles’ arms and whispers “ _ Why do you exist, why do you love me so much _ ”, on the bed of a motel in Colorado, while Charles’ hands hang on Erik, like a sailor on a lifeboat after a tempest. 

 

Charles’ eyes open wide. 

 

Charles hates his fucking brain. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

**19.**

 

“I can’t get hard.”

 

It’s plain and simple. 

 

“... Alright. But do you want starters?”

 

Maybe the restaurant they’re in isn’t the best place to talk about erectile dysfunctions but Charles’ has been touching himself every night for two weeks and it's not working. He needed to tell James that, so the man won’t feel…  _ set up _ , or something like that. 

 

“... Do they have calamari?”

 

James smiles and nods, “The best you ever tasted.” They choose what they want to eat and he lifts a hand to call for the waitress. She takes their command and disappears once again. James’ hand automatically lend on Charles’.

 

“I’m sorry, I just needed to tell you…”

 

“That’s okay, Charles. I… actually, I kind of knew. My cousin is a doctor, I asked her. She told me paraplegic people often can’t get erections. Well, it can happen but it’s…”

 

“Rare, I know.”

 

“We don’t have to -”

 

“But I  _ want _ to.” 

 

They’re interrupted when the waitress is back and she’s pouring them two glasses of wine. Charles waits for her to leave again, before he says:

 

“And it’s not because  _ I _ can’t reach orgasm that you won’t get one.” 

 

James blushes. And Charles beams.

 

They don’t go back to the mansion. It was Charles’ idea as, sometimes, his unfriendly brain reminds him of Erik’s presence in his bed, in his  _ body _ . They go to James’ place instead. It’s a flat bigger than Charles imagined it would be, near the sea. They can actually see the beach from the bedroom, but not from the bed, where Charles is pressed down, James’ body on top of his. They’re kissing, it’s loud and messy. It’s been so long and Charles can’t waste his time with foreplay and getting to know each other first. He wants James to open him up with his fingers, gosh with his  _ tongue _ , and he doesn’t even know if he’d feel it, but he wants it to be obscene, he wants to be ashamed in the morning and to feel so  _ alive _ . 

 

“Can I suck you?” Charles pants, gently biting the pale throat in front of him.

 

“Fuck, yeah, Charles. I had no idea you’d be…” his words trail off and Charles grins.

 

“So slutty?”

 

James waits barely ten seconds before he nods, unsure he should be honest right now and that only turns Charles more.

 

“You have no idea,” he invades his mouth with his tongue like he would fuck him, or imply James should fuck him and it’s both obscene and not enough. 

 

“Lube,” James moans when he finally succeeds in pulling off of Charles’ hungry mouth. “We need lube.” He quickly kisses his lips one more time and raises up, taking off his shirt and Charles sprawls on the bed, looking at him with eyes greedy with lust.

 

“Good idea and then come back to fuck me, Erik,” he pleads and for a second it seems every pieces of the puzzle fall in the good places until all the pieces explode once again and fall, one by one in the well.

 

And Charles realizes he never found the ladder. 

 

He straightens up, stomach hurting with the awful feeling he’s about to hurl. 

 

“That’s o…”

 

Charles raises his hand to ask for James to not end his sentence because it’s _ not _ okay, it’s not  _ fine _ , it’s not nearly _ acceptable _ that this is his life now, miserable and without  _ Erik _ . He breathes in sharp and extends a hand to grab the dial phone on the bedside table. He turns the wheel to compose the number and  _ sobs _ when it’s Hank’s voice which answers.

 

“ _ Hello? _ ”

 

“Hank, Hank please come and get me, please, Hank,  _ please _ .” 

 

“ _ Charles? Is everything alright? What… _ ”

 

“I’m in… Gosh I don’t even know where I am, I’m at James’ place. Please come, Hank I’m begging you,” he cries and hopes his words aren’t getting lost in the tears.

 

“ _ Has he _ …”

 

“I just need to be back home. Please.”

 

“ _ Yes, yes, I’m on my way _ .” 

 

Charles hangs up before he hears the phone line gone dead and pushes the phone away as if it burnt him. He holds the sheets behind him, confused between the need to roll himself in them or run away from this bed. 

 

“Charles,” James is calling from behind him, so soft and sweet and he can’t face him. Not anymore.

 

“I’m sorry. I can’t,” that’s the last thing that crosses his mind, then everything is blank again. 

 

No desire to cry, no need to run away from this condo. Hank arrives and he talks with James but Charles’ mind doesn’t make the effort to understand what they’re saying. He lets Hank lift him and above his shoulder, he sees James following them with the wheelchair he then puts in the truck of the car. They go back home in silence and when he settles Charles on his bed, Hank asks if he wants for him to stay and Charles begs  _ “Yes” _ before he hugs him so tight all his muscles hurt. They stay like this for five minutes, then Charles withdraws and lies down on his right side, turning his back on Hank. Nor a friend’s embrace like Hank’s, nor a quick fuck like James could ease the plain agony which is keeping him in the well and Charles only realizes it now, he’s filling it with his tears, every day a bit more. One day, he’ll drown if he doesn’t do something about it. 

 

“I wish I never met Erik. I wish he never was a part of my life,” is the last thing he says before sleep takes pity on him and lets him rest.

  
  
  


* * *

 

 

**18.**

 

It takes one week and a lot of medicines to bring Charles out of his bedroom. Hank’s preparing the breakfast for the kids when he sees Charles entering the kitchen one morning but he doesn’t have time to open his lips before Charles raises a hand.

 

“I figured it out, Hank. I figured how I can heal. Will you help me?”

 

“Sure, anything.”

 

Charles breathes in through his nose. He barely slept all week, taking vitamins instead of sleeping pills to have enough strength to find a solution. He even started on his own, but it’ll be more efficient with someone’s help.

 

“I’m going to erase Erik from my memory. Every single recollection I had with him. It’s the only way I can start with my life again.”

 

“How do you plan to manage that?”

 

“By using my own powers. In the past, it happened that I erased memories from other people’s mind. I can’t erase everything in one go. So I settled some kind of… exercises, for my mind. Last night, I drew this, just before I went to bed.” He takes out of his pocket a paper he’s unfolding to show a ludicrous drawing of a flower, with written on it  _ I’m Charles Xavier and I drew that horrible flower. If, the following morning, I have no memory left of doing so, it’s because I succeeded in erasing this souvenir during my sleep _ .

 

Hank carefully reads it and breathes in, loudly.

 

“Gosh, that’s impressive. How do you want me to help you?”

 

“We’ll have to be sure the memories are really erased. If that’s okay with you I’ll… tell you some anecdotes before I go to sleep, then you’ll repeat them to me in the morning and we’ll see if I remember them… or if it worked.”

 

Hank nods and looks at the flower again before he asks, “Do you think it’s going to work?”

 

Charles smiles, without knowing why.

 

“It has to, Hank.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

**17.**

 

They start on Friday evening, because Charles’ not sure he could teach classes the day following a night where his mind worked all but consciously. 

 

They settle on Charles’ oldest sofa in his bedroom, the one his mother bought when she was eighteen years old. Charles brought whisky and he doesn’t pour one single glass to Hank.

 

“That’s not fair that you’re getting wasted while I don’t.”

 

“ _ I _ need courage to tell you the first souvenir I want to wipe out and  _ you _ need all off your head to remember it.”

 

“It’s going to be about sex, isn’t it,” it’s not even a question.

 

“Yep,” Charles drinks directly from the bottle. He pulls a face and explains, “It’ll be easier if I erase the souvenirs from the last day we saw each other to the first day we met. I can’t touch so old memories yet.” 

 

“I really wish I could have a drink right now.”

 

“I won’t get into too much details.”

 

Hank closes his eyes and breathes in through his mouth, dramatically, as if to give himself the courage to say, “Well, you have to. At least, just a bit. Tomorrow morning I’ll have to be specific about.. what you want me to tell you about, to see if you really forgot all about it.”

 

“Point taken. Gosh it’s going to be awkward,” Charles passes a hand on his face and drinks again.

 

“Yep.”

 

“You’re a good friend, Hank.”

 

“I have the feeling that I am, indeed.”

 

They both share a smile and Charles lies on the sofa, back against the armrest. He closes his eyes and starts, “I’m Charles Xavier and this is what I want to forget tonight. I want to forget the last night I spent with Erik Lehnsherr, before we left for Cuba. I want to forget how I felt when Erik came into my room and told me he had sex with Raven. I want to forget slapping him and how hard I begged him to not leave me, how I kneeled to be sure he wouldn’t get out of our bedroom. I want to forget we fucked on the floor, while he kept repeating I didn’t even care for a bed, as long as he was ravishing me. I want to forget I came, sobbing his name. I want to forget the way he said he adored me, once he came too, kissing my ear and hugging me like no one else existed in the world beside us.” 

 

_ There _ . Charles opens an eye and looks at his friend.

 

Hank grabs the bottle, drinks a bit and murmurs huskily, “Super awkward indeed.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

**16.**

 

Charles wakes up and gets dressed so quickly it must be some kind of record. Everyone is still sleeping in the manor, it must be pretty early, but he goes to Hank’s bedroom and rapidly knocks on the door. Hank opens it a few seconds after, with a growl that only intensifies when he sees the professor and his big blue eyes. 

 

“It’s too early, Charles…”

 

“Did it work? We have to know if it worked,” Charles says hastily. 

 

“... Come on in.”

 

Hank closes behind him and sits on his single bed. He massages his face hard and asks, without opening his eyes.

 

“Alright. When was the last time you and Erik… had sex?”

 

There’s a sparkle of shame of talking about it with Hank that lasts only a second before Charles answers, “A few nights before we left for Cuba.”

 

“Where was it,” his tone isn’t even questioning, Charles can’t blame him.

 

He thinks about it for a long time and then he remembers. He’s a bit embarrassed when he says, “In the kitchen.”

 

“Oh for Christ’s sake!” Hank exclaims, suddenly opening his eyes.

 

“I  _ need _ to be honest! We… had sex on the kitchen table. But it was very late and we were quite drunk… Is this the memory I told you yesterday?”

 

Hank shakes his head. “No.” 

 

Charles’s breathing intensifies. Yesterday he wondered if it’d feel weird to know he had forgotten a memory including him and Erik, but it’s not. It’s invigorating. At last.

  
  


* * *

 

 

**15.**

 

At first, Charles wants to do it every night, but some mornings Charles wakes up and hurls so much it takes all of his energy away for the rest of the day. So he and Hank are working on his memory every three days. Sometimes, Hank can’t, because he’s too tired, or because he’s taking care of a kid who has nightmares and Charles does it on his own. He focuses on tiny memories when he does this alone. The way Erik smelt in the morning. The sensation of his beard against Charles’ cheek. How his voice sounded when he was calling him  _ Schatzi. _

 

(Charles can’t erase this memory yet, not matter how hard he tries.)

 

He erased so much of their relationship now that he gets to tell Hank about the road trip. And things get complicated. It takes him nights, sometimes a full week to completely erase a particular souvenir. Hank knows so much about them they’re not even embarrassed when Charles tells him about their sex life anymore. Something changed between them. Charles knows it’s for the best. The fact he lets Hank drink a bit helps the whole situation too. Two times, Hank falls asleep on the sofa, beside him. When they wake up, they look like shit, but as long as it works (as long as Charles forgets a bit more), everything’s okay.

 

“It’s going to be a tough one,” Charles warns him, massaging his thighs the way his new nurse taught him to.

 

“Alright.”

 

Charles closes his eyes and rests his hands on his belly. He decided to lie down on the rug tonight, he doesn’t know why. It takes a change from usual.

 

“I’m Charles Xavier and this is what I want to forget tonight. I want to forget the first night Erik and I made love. I want to forget the way he was smoking, leaning against the rented car. I want to forget the stars above us, the silence, the warmth. I want to forget I told him how happy I used to feel around him. I want to forget the way he gently grabbed my elbow after he threw away his cigarette butt. I want to forget the look on his face when he said “ _ Can I kiss you, Charles, please _ .” I want to forget I had tears in my eyes when I said yes. Tears because that’s all I wanted, since the first day we met. I want to forget the motel in Dakota. I want to forget the blue sheets under us. I want to forget his kisses, his promises.” 

 

Charles opens his eyes and stops. For the first time, he realizes what he’s been doing for months. Forgetting. Forgetting  _ everything _ . And Hank must understand that because he whispers, “We can stop…”

 

“I want to forget he told me he was in love with me, the first night we spent together,” Charles finishes. 

 

His hand move up and down on his belly, caused by his steady breathing.

 

* * *

 

 

**14.**

 

Sometimes, Hank dreams about Erik. It’s not weird as he’s spending all of his nights listening to his love affair with Charles. In his dreams, Erik is here, in the mansion, and he’s talking but no one notices him, no one but Hank. That’s not totally stupid, as he knows the more the time passes, the more Erik won’t exist to Charles but only to Hank. Alex and Sean will never know him as well as he does. And Raven… God knows what Raven knows about Erik. 

 

It’s fucked up. 

 

But it’s for the best. 

 

Today, there’s a trip to the forest organized with all the kids and the teachers, because it’s warm enough but not too much to risk any insolation. Hank checks he has anything he needs in his backpack before he’s the first one to walk on the front steps. There’s a black car which enters through the portal and Hank is sure he closed it yesterday evening. What the -

 

Oh _ no. _

 

_ Please, God, no. _

 

“Who is it, Hank?” Charles wonders, moving toward him, he’s not coming with them for the trip but he wants to greet them before they leave. 

 

Hank doesn’t need to answer, because the car parks and Erik walks out of it. There’s so much animosity radiating from some of the teachers, Hank feels he could transform into Beast just because of this. But he doesn’t. God knows he’s doing his best to not jump at the man’s throat.

 

“What kind of  _ sick _ joke it is?” Charles laughs, or spits, or chokes, Hank couldn’t tell. Erik keeps walking until he’s standing in front of them. “Alright, who wants to kill him first? Just kidding, no one is to hurt him. Or maybe you should? Hank, would you like to transform and tears off his throat with your nails? Nah, I’m kidding, again. Alex, do your best to not burn him alive! No, don’t move Alex, I don’t mean that seriously. It’s a joke. Yes, everything is fine. Very fine,” Charles laughs with a voice that seems drowning under all the spit running in his mouth. 

 

He’s the only one talking, so quickly, so painfully, no one dares to speak. He turns around to check everybody’s reaction which is close to non-existent, then looks at Hank and Erik again. “Okay, I’m going to throw up.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

**13.**

 

The trip is canceled in the end and Erik is sent away. He hasn’t said a word to Charles in any case but he talked to Hank.

 

“I need to speak to him.”

 

“He won’t let you come near him again.” 

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“I know a lot of things, trust me,” he said with a faint smile. 

 

“... Alright, meet me in New Rochelle tomorrow, ten o’clock, _ Tip’s Pub _ .”

 

“Why would I do that?”

 

“Because you care about Charles, so it seems.”

 

Bloody Erik and his bloody nerves to come back to the mansion. Hank hates him for it. Hank goes to see him anyway. They meet at a lousy pub that makes Hank want to take a shower even before he puts his ass on a stool. Erik’s just as he has always been. Without his helmet though.

 

“What changed?” Erik asks, once they drank enough beers to talk without the urgent need to punch each other’s face.

 

“Well, you broke his spine, first of all.” 

 

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Something I saw in his eyes yesterday was… off. Something’s changed.”

 

“Changed from the time you and him were a couple?” Hank washes his mouth with his beer right away.

 

“... He told you that.”

 

“He did.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I’m his friend.”

 

“ _ Everyone  _ is Charles’ bloody friend. You know something, Beast, just speak.” 

 

“Because he needs my help to forget all about you,” Hank confesses with disdain. 

 

Erik’s eyes narrow, he shakes his head and doesn’t even wait for the barman to go away before he asks, “Are you  _ fucking  _ him?”

 

“ _ God _ no, nope,  _ no _ . He’s literally forgetting about you, Erik. He’s been training his mind to erase every trace of you for months. Soon, he won’t ever remember you once existed in his life.”

 

That seems to shake Erik’s deep to his core, his face goes blank and his mouth opens a bit. It’s painful to see. And pleasant too. 

 

“Charles had a severe depression after… Cuba. Not because of the wheelchair. Because of  _ you leaving _ him. He was a wreck. When Moira left, Alex, Sean and I we… we hid the razor blades. I hid his sleeping pills too. Alex’s mother committed suicide so… he recognized some signs, that Charles wasn’t even aware of. Then Charles found out the only way of getting out of this state of mind was to forget about you. Entirely.” 

 

“... What does he still remember?”

 

“First of all, the fact that you deviated the bullet. That, he doesn’t want to forget, he wants to keep hating you. But he doesn’t remember much after the road trip you did together.”

 

Erik lets him finish, waits and then starts to shake his head.

 

“Alright,” that’s all he says, reaching his inner pocket to take out bills he puts on the bar.

 

Hank looks at him and it takes him a few seconds to understand Erik is really leaving, “Wait!” he pays in his turn and quickly follows him, preventing him from getting in his car. “That’s it? So you’re leaving?”

 

“No, I’m going to see Charles.”

 

“Okay, maybe that helmet burnt your eardrums so I’m going to say this once again:  _ he doesn’t want to see you anymore _ ,” Hank repeats loudly and excruciatingly slow, as if he’s speaking to someone a bit simple-minded but Erik doesn’t listen to him and enters his car before he starts the motor and drives. 

 

“Shit,” Hank spits out and quickly runs to his own car. He’s as fast as possible but Erik is a goddamn maniac on the road so it’s no surprise he arrives after him. He doesn’t close the door of his car and turns himself into Beast before he gallops to Charles’ bedroom. He opens the door wide and the scene is horrific: Charles is sitting in his bed, under the sheets, clearly he was sleeping and Erik is standing in the middle of the room staring at him. Beast lets out his fangs and claws, ready to kill him right away but Charles lifts a hand.

 

“Hank, leave us. Please.”

 

“I’m not leaving you alone with him.”

 

“I’ll call you if I need help,” he points at his own temple and it takes some courage for Hank to withdraw. 

 

A bloody _ lot  _ of courage.

 

* * *

 

 

**12.**

 

“Hank told me.”

 

“So why are you here?” Charles’ voice is harsh, if words were swords, they’d be slicing Erik in two right now.

 

“Because I made a mistake, Charles.”

 

“ _ Wow _ , just one?” he bitterly laughs, still sitting in his bed, arms crossed against his chest as if it’s a shield preventing Erik from getting near his guts. Or heart.

 

“Yes,  _ one _ , because the bullet was an accident and you know it. My mistake is that I left you. I should have never leave.”

 

“There’re so many things you shouldn’t have done, Erik”, Charles snarls, trying to reach for the glass of water on his bedside table.

 

“Maybe, but loving you isn’t one of them.”

 

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” Charles growls despite himself, fingers barely brushing past the glass and Erik starts to move close to the bed to help him reach it and Charles withdraws so quickly he almost stumbles on his own bed, “Don’t come near me.” 

 

“I won’t hurt you, Charles,” Erik sighs, resting a knee on the mattress, handing out the glass that Charles doesn’t dare to touch.

 

“You’re hurting me in every way possible since the first day we met,” Charles feels the tremors in his voice, but he won’t yield. Never again.

 

“That’s why you’re trying to forget me?” Erik grumbles, trying to catch Charles’ wrist to force him to hold the glass he was trying to reach.

 

“I’m not  _ trying _ , I know I’m succeeding.” 

 

Erik loses his patience all of a sudden and throws the glass on the ground before he catches both of Charles’ wrists to pin them on the bed, almost straddling his body. 

 

“You can’t forget about me, Charles, I know it’s impossible. I tried, God I  _ tried _ so hard but you became _ everything _ . You bewitched me, you turned me inside out and now there’s no one else. I know you feel the same, I  _ fucking know it _ .” 

 

“I…” Charles starts, but Erik stops him right away.

 

“Can you really forget the day we were alone here, when the kids were with Moira at the beach, when you had a headache and I stayed with you? You can’t forget it, Charles, I know because it’s the first time we were alone in your house, and that’s what I told you and you remember what you told me back then, don’t you? You told me ‘But Erik, this is _ our _ house’ and I… I cried when you said that, because I never had a house since my parents…” Erik stops, tremors in his husky voice. He swallows heavily and dares to face Charles’ gaze again. But maybe what he’s seeing isn’t what he was expecting.

 

Charles has  _ no idea _ what Erik is talking about. Did Erik live here? At the mansion? Did Charles really tell him the house was…  _ his,  _ too? Charles doesn’t remember.

 

Charles doesn’t remember at all. 

 

They both realize it and Erik suddenly understands he’s been squeezing his body without any softness. He gets up, looking dazed and exits the room. Charles breathes in as deep as he can, massages his faces and presses his fingers against his temple.

 

_ ‘Hank, see Erik to the door, will you.’ _

 

_ ‘I’m trying to, but he doesn’t want to leave the house. He asks for a room to stay in for the night.’ _

 

_ ‘... Whatever, I don’t care.’ _

 

_ ‘Do you want me to come?’ _

 

_ ‘Don’t. Thank you.’ _

 

On the rug, there’s the broken glass and Charles thinks  _ Oh it looks like my soul _ . 

  
  


* * *

 

**11.**

 

Erik is eating alone at one of the round-table in the dining room when Charles comes down. He stares at him without daring to approach him and Alex explains:

 

“He says he wants to be a teacher here. He showed Lucia his powers and she said it was marvellous. Now she wants him to try to teach a class this afternoon.”

 

“She _ what _ ?”

 

“Well, you asked us to never tell the other teachers what Erik did, so she doesn’t… know. Plus, she’s the one who’s supposed to hire the teachers when you said you couldn’t so… yeah. Do you want me to beat him now? I just have a breakfast full of proteins, I don’t mind.” 

 

“That’s very sweet of you, but don’t bother.”

 

He moves to face Erik across the table and coughs to get his attention. Erik raises his head and folds the newspaper he was reading.

 

“Goodmorning Charles, did you sleep well?”

 

“Ah, funny,” he says and clearly it’s not, “As a matter of fact, the Xavier Institute is not an hotel, so, please, leave.”

 

“I know, that’s why I went to see… Lucia? Is that her name? Well I went to see the woman on the first floor of the West aisle to tell her I want to apply to a job here.” 

 

“You can’t.”

 

“She said you guys were looking for teachers.”

 

“I mean, you can’t care about anyone else that yourself, especially children. So stop this…  _ thing _ you’re doing, and leave.” 

 

“I care about you more than my own life, Charles,” Erik says as if he’s stating something obviously normal like the sky is blue or Marmite is hell made jelly or whatever. “That’s why I want to live here from now on. To win you back.”

 

Charles has a feeling he has a wide vocabulary but he doesn’t know any words to answer this. 

 

“You have beautiful eyes, Charles. I know I haven’t told you that enough and it’s not right. The color changes a lot, according to the luminosity and it’s so raw. I wonder if I’ll ever see twice the same color? I should spend a lifetime with you to be sure. It works for me. Does it work for you?”

 

Charles is proud he succeeds in opening his mouth but there’s nothing much that a simple “I…” which comes out of it before he gathers enough bravery to add, “I’m forgetting all about you.”

 

“I know, you told me that yesterday. But I’m planning on making you stop. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to see Lucia to fill in some papers.”

 

He gets up and smiles at Charles when he walks past him. Charles just has to take control of Lucia’s mind to make her fire Erik, but he doesn’t. At six in the afternoon, Erik Lehnsherr is officially a new teacher at the institute. When Hank looks at Charles accross his office, silently asking him if it’s a good idea, Charles finds the sudden urge to observe the paintings around him.

  
  
  


* * *

 

 

**10.**

 

There are words that Erik dare to say during the day that Charles can’t escape from.

 

_ “I think I fell in love with your voice before anything else about you. It’s not even the fact you said I wasn’t alone, it’s  _ how  _ you said it. You speak directly from your heart, Charles, you have no restraint, no flourish. You’re the most honest man I know.” _

 

_ “I love your hands and you know what I miss? I miss holding them against mine. I miss when you were comparing their size, I miss the way your eyes flickered when you were realizing my hand was bigger than yours. At first I thought it was scaring you. Because I’m not a good person, and you always knew that, so I thought I wasn’t worthy. But in the end I understood, even if we never talked about it. I know it reassured you. You were always falling asleep faster when one of my hands was resting on your belly.” _

 

_ “Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I see blood all around me and dirt. I don’t realize it at first, but I’m dreaming and I’m  _ back there _. There are soldiers and corpses. There’s only one thing I can say and it’s your name. I say  _ Charles _ because might it be the start of something new or the death of me, you’re everything.” _

 

Charles is ready to beg Hank to fasten their sessions but Hank’s get a call and his father is sick so Hank leaves and Charles doesn’t hold him back, he even lies to him, saying he’ll be fine, because Hank needs to be with his dad right now. 

 

(What does Charles need?)

 

* * *

 

 

**9.**

  
  
  


“Is he going to be okay?”

 

“ _ Doctors are optimistic _ ,” Hank breathes out.

 

“That's a relief. How are you, Hank? I hope it’s not too hard for you.”

 

_ “My aunts and uncles came to help me, it’s easier to not face this alone. We.. we never knew he had a cardiac problem.” _

 

“He was very lucky a doctor was near him when he had his heart attack then.” 

 

_ “Yes. What about you, how’s school? How are you, Charles?” _

 

“Good,”  _ I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.  _

 

_ “Did you erase some memories lately?” _

 

“I tried but… it’s not working when I’m alone. Not anymore. Maybe I’m too tired.”

 

_ “... Yeah, maybe.” _

 

Charles doesn’t know why Hank paused. It’s weird he paused. Did he want to say something else?

 

_ “I’m sorry, I have to hang up, Charles, the call is going to cost a fortune.” _

 

“Sure. Give your dad my best regards.”

 

_ “Will do. Take care of you.” _

 

“You too.” Charles hangs up and breathes out loudly. He’s looking at the clock on the wall (midnight, the day passed too quickly) when the door opens. Of course, it’s Erik.

 

“Were you on the phone?”

 

“Yes, with Hank,” Charles answers, blankly.

 

“How is he doing?”

 

“Why would you possibly care?” Charles snarls.

 

“Because I know what it feels like to lose a dad.”

 

Charles doesn’t answer this. He moves and stops in front of the chess game. He recalls something but he’s not sure…

 

“You play chess, is that right?”

 

“Yes. We played numerous time, actually.”

 

“I only remember two or three games when we were travelling across the country.”

 

“Yes, but we did our most brilliant games here, in this room actually.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

Charles doesn’t forget the fact he’s forgetting. He insists about that fact.

 

“Fancy a game?” he proposes and Erik beams. They sit facing each other and Erik takes the white pawns because they’re in front of him. They start without a hurry and Charles doesn’t even remember he wanted a drink before Erik entered the room. The atmosphere is nice enough for him to not want to drown in alcohol. That’s new. 

 

“I suppose you don’t remember the day we did a… strip-chess?” Erik’s gaze raises to meet Charles’ scandalized one.

 

“We did  _ not _ .” 

 

“We did. It was your idea actually.”

 

“I would have never involve sex in a game that my…”

 

“...  _ Step-father taught you _ . That’s what you told me, I know. Then you shrugged and said  _ Let’s do it anyway _ .” 

 

Charles stares at Erik before he actually giggles. 

 

“Please don’t try to interpret this as a Freu…”

 

“...  _ dian slip or something _ . That’s what you said back then too.” 

 

They look at each other and laugh and suddenly, something’s  _ back _ . But Charles can’t figure what it is. They play in silence for nearly ten minutes before Charles dares to ask the question which is burning in him.

 

“So… did we have sex? At one point?”

 

He glances at Erik who seems utterly sad. 

 

“We did. Several times.” It should sound like a joke. It’s not. 

 

“Okay. I don’t remember that either,” Charles shrugs, then smiles, honest and sorry at the same time.

 

“What do you remember?” Erik whispers almost as if he doesn’t want to hear the answer and Charles says, plain and simple:

 

“I remember how it felt to kiss you.”

 

He moves on a pawn. Maybe it’s not even his turn. They don’t care.

 

“I remember every kisses we shared during the trip. But nothing after California.”

 

“Is it a good memory?” Erik asks.

 

“Yes,” Charles answers right away.

 

“Do you want to forget that?”

 

“No,” he’s just as quick. 

 

“Can I kiss you now?”

 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Charles breathes out and Erik is already standing, pushing away the table, and kneels before Charles’ legs. He catches his face in his hands and draws their forehead together. Charles is panting, eyes firmly closed, his hand holding Erik’s to be sure this is not a dream, that he won’t leave,  _ again _ . It’s awful the way his back is killing him right now, like a reminder of what that man did to him, but pain has always been a part of Charles’ life, from his stepfather’s slaps to the way Erik was making love to him, so that’s okay. He opens his lips, feels Erik’s breath on him and suddenly they’re kissing like they never went apart, like they’re one. Like they’re the same soul. Charles’ hands are holding his neck tight, pulling him with a need of  _ More, more, more _ , and Erik obliges, pushing his tongue further in his mouth, messily, with all the passion in the world. 

 

“I missed you, I missed you,” Charles pants when they separate their lips just in time before they faint out of breath and he has to repeat it because saying this just once can’t be enough. “I nearly went mad without you.” 

 

“I know,  _ Schatzi _ , I’m sorry,  _ Gott _ I’m so sorry…”

 

“Don’t leave ever again. Please, please Erik…” he bites his lips and they embrace each other as hard as possible. It feels right. It feels how it should always feel. 

 

“I won’t, I swear.”

 

“Or if you do, put the bullet in my heart, not my spine,” Charles awkwardly laughs and Erik grins, even if it doesn’t make them laugh per say. Erik stands up and holds Charles in his arms, not leaving his lips for a single moment. 

 

“Never again,” he whispers and it doesn’t need to be said more loudly, they both know it’s true. 

 

They go in Charles’ bedroom and Erik uses his powers to close the door behind them. He gently rests Charles on the bed and comes on it too, taking off his clothes. Charles could get undressed too but he doesn’t want to move. Instead he just observes the simplicity it takes for Erik to be completely naked in front of him. Right, he’s used to it. Charles doesn’t remember showing him his body and the fact Erik’s so beautiful doesn’t help. Charles’ arms are muscled but he has love handles he’d like to get rid of, and thighs too thin to be those of a grown-up man. His body is a contradiction on its own. 

 

“Are you okay?” Erik pants, crawling to him and Charles nods, keeping his hands on the buttons of his cardigan, without opening it for now. 

 

“It’s… well, my first time, actually.”

 

Erik smiles softly and gently pushes away Charles’ hands to start to undress him. 

 

“You have freckles all over your shoulders and arms. I used to kiss them. Sometimes, you were pushing me away because you said I was taking too long, and you were so eager to… well, do something else. You’re ticklish, unbelievably so. I know. I never touch your ribs. You like it when I suck on your nipples. At first your thought it was weird and then when you realised it was… soothing me, you let me. I know it takes forty minutes and three fingers to prepare you. I know you don’t like to feel the lubricant run between your thighs and I know you like to feel my come instead. I know you need me to hug you tight after you come. I know you cry, sometimes. I know that’s what you need.”

 

Charles stares at him, breathless. It takes him a few seconds to realize he’s now naked and Erik’s done, both taking off his clothes and speaking. It’s Charles’ turn to say, or do, something. And he knows there’s something that they never shared that they can’t ignore. Slowly, Charles turns around. It’s a bit difficult without his legs, but Erik moves on the right side to gives him room. He lies on his belly and keeps his head up, looking at Erik’s above his shoulder. He doesn’t miss the darkness in Erik’s gaze, the one that screams hate. Hate against  _ himself _ . Because now Erik faces the scar and it’s as ugly as their love used to be pure. He leans and Charles’ can’t see his face anymore so he closes his eyes and rests his head on the pillow above his arms. 

 

“Can you feel it when I do this?”

 

“Yes,” he sighs, perceiving Erik’s lips kissing his red and marked skin. 

 

“You’re beautiful, Charles.  _ Mine _ .”

 

“ _ Yours _ ,” Charles smiles faintly. Maybe he hasn’t say the word out loud. He doesn’t know. 

 

“Stop forgetting about me, I’m begging you.”

 

“Yes,” it’s a promise. He doesn’t want to forget anymore. He wants to remember everything. 

 

They kiss and caress each other all night long. The last thing Charles feels before he falls asleep is Erik’s lips on his forehead.

  
  


* * *

 

 

**8.**

 

Was the weather so nice before? Charles hasn’t notice. He knows he’s so romantic that everything must feel nice right now because he spent the night with Erik. They’re eating lunch outside, watching the kids taking a break before the class will start again at one. Erik only gave three classes for now, but it’s starting okay. He’s not a very patient man but admires mutants so much, he’s willing to let his ego aside and take of his time to teach kids how to master their powers. 

 

“The cook is amazing,” Erik says and the teachers nod.

 

“She is. I never ate pastilla before but it’s so good!” Charles exclaims, moaning a bit.

 

“Yes we did, in San Francisco, during our trip. Remember? We just had met a young girl who could create a clone of herself and it scared the hell out of us because she didn’t warn us. Then her mother cooked pastillas for us.”

 

Charles looks at Erik with big wide eyes. What is he talking about?

 

“We went to California?” he pulls a face, Erik must be mistaking him for someone else. 

 

“Of course we…” Erik’s words trail off and his smile suddenly dies. “Come,” he says as quietly as possible and Charles leans to him.

 

“Erik, what’s going on?”

 

“Did you try to erase other memories, last night?”

 

“Last night? Of course not as…”  _ ‘As we were kind of kissing and touching each other, darling.’ _

 

Erik leans to Charles’ ear and whispers, “So it means you’re not controlling your powers anymore. You keep erasing me, Charles. And you don’t even know it.”

 

Charles’ heart stops for two seconds. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

**7.**

 

Fortunately, Hank’s back. At first he looked at both Erik and Charles (holding hands, alright) and didn’t say a word for maybe a minute but Charles explained everything to him and Hank,  _ wonderful Hank, _ well, he understood. 

 

He and Charles are not giving classes anymore, they spend their day, sometimes their nights, trying to stop the erasing machine Charles started in his own mind with his powers. But it’s not working and every morning he wakes up, there’s a bit less of Erik in his soul and they all feel it. Paradoxically, Charles knows his feeling for _ Present Erik _ are every day stronger. 

 

“Maybe when my brain will get to the first day we met, I will remember the past few weeks and everything will be the same between us?” he says, full of hope and Erik turns to Hank who sighs.

 

“That’s not what you trained your mind to. Once your brain will wipe away the day you met… in the sea, is that correct? Well, once your brain will reach that day, you’ll forget all of Erik’s existence. Which means you’ll forget about the bullet too.”

 

“Leave us, Hank,” Erik softly requires and before he’s out of the room, he adds, “Hank just… Well, thank you. For your help.”

 

Hank nods. 

 

Charles doesn’t mind crying in front of Hank but maybe Erik doesn't want that. So he waits for the door to shut and hides his face in Erik’s neck. 

 

* * *

 

**6.**

 

Because now he knows he won’t be able to stop his powers he figures out he just needs to stop sleeping. At first, Erik doesn’t see it coming because they talk and kiss each other all night long, then they try to have sex, but Charles can’t get hard and Erik doesn’t want to climax if his lover can’t. 

 

They’re on the bed, Charles on top of him one night - one _ morning _ , it’s almost four - and Charles sees Erik’s eyes closing. He pinches his arms right away.

 

“Don’t fall asleep,” he urges to say.

 

“Wh...at? Why?” Erik asks, groggy. And he finally realizes it’s been almost a week since Charles started to have insomnias. “Charles, you need to sleep, you’ll hurt yourself if you don’t.”

 

“I’ll forget you if I do.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

**5.**

 

“You should prepare your mind to think you had a car accident, otherwise once you’ll wake up and you’ll have… well, forget, everything, you’ll be confused about being in a wheelchair,” Hank tells Charles, both sitting on Charles’ bed while Erik is brushing his teeth.

 

“Alright. No one must realize something’s odd about me,” Charles nods.

 

“Yeah, we talked about it with Erik. The first day after your amnesia about him will be total, he’ll keep his distance. I’ll present him to you as a new teacher and I’ll always be around you to be sure you won’t ask obvious questions to Erik, in front of a kid or another teacher.”

 

“You should fire James too. I don’t want to… I don’t want to see him once... “ Charles doesn’t finish his sentence.

 

“Already did. Today was his last day.”

 

Charles turns his head to look at Hank. There’s a tender smile on his lips, the kind that says  _ Everything will be alright, _ and they both know it’s a lie, but lies can be beautiful. 

 

“You saved my life, Hank,” Charles states out. “I’ll forget about this too, everything you did for me. I don’t even know anymore what I told you but I _ know  _ I spent months telling you all about me and you just…”

 

“I’m your friend,” Hank states out, plain and simple.

 

Charles kisses his cheek. It’s quick and a bit odd, but he wanted to. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

**4.**

 

Erik and Charles are having a walk in the park, across the grass and they’re looking at the mansion. The sun is slowly hiding behind the pines. 

 

“It’s not very nice, around here,” Charles says, a bit disappointed.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“When we were living here with my mother and Raven, they were both gardening all the time. There used to have flowers here. Yellow and white ones, it was really pretty.”

 

“You want to plant flowers?”

 

“Not me, I hate gardening but it’d look nice, don’t you think?”

 

“I do. What kind of flowers do you like?”

 

Charles only has to think about it for two seconds before he smiles:

 

“Myosotis. You know what they are?” Erik shakes his head. “They’re tiny blue flowers. They grow by bunch. The center is very yellow, it’s quite pretty.”

 

“Oh yes, I do know that variety. In German we call it  _ Vergiss mein nicht. _ ”

 

Charles nods, he didn’t know that. German is a strange language, sometimes.

 

* * *

 

**3.**

  
  


Erik and Charles go away for the weekend. They rent a house near the sea. They don’t even get out of it and try to make love, but it hurts Charles so they spend their time kissing and reading in front of the fireplace. 

 

“I’ll marry you, one day,” is what Erik says before they fell asleep and Charles pulls his hand on his own belly, thinking as hard as he can that he doesn’t want to forget that.

  
  


* * *

 

**2.**

 

Erik enters Charles’ bedroom one evening and he climbs on the bed so quickly, the poor man jumps with surprise. 

 

“What the hell, Erik?”

 

“Tell me if it fits…” Erik drags out a ring from a little velvet box and Charles’ eyes open  _ wide _ .

 

He presses his fingers against his temple and screams ‘ _ Hank, come, right now _ .’ 

 

“Charles, are you o…” but Erik doesn’t have time to finish his sentence, Beast is already entering the bedroom in his turn and he looks at them both.

 

“What’s happening?”

 

“I think Erik has lost his mind.”

 

Beast frowns and Erik looks at Charles, wrecked.

 

“I mean, I know we had fun when we kissed and made out the other night, Erik, but don’t you think it’s a bit  _ way _ too early to… propose?” 

 

“Oh, Charles…” Beast -  _ Hank _ , breathes out, turning back to his human form and Erik and him are both looking at Charles like he’s in a final phase or something.

 

“What… ?” he says the words and out of nowhere it  _ strikes _ him. He  _ does _ have a relationship with Erik, he  _ does _ love him. And he’s forgetting him for  _ good _ . “I’m so sorry, Erik, I’m so…”

 

“Hank, how much longer do you think he has?” Erik asks coldly, turning his back on Charles.

 

“A few days. Top,” he looks at Charles one more time before he quietly leaves the room. 

 

Erik is still showing his back to Charles and doesn’t seem to hear his pleas until he suddenly turns around, eyes shiny with tears his pride won’t let fall on his cheeks.

 

“I’ll sleep in another room, tonight, Charles, if you don’t mind. It’s just… It’s too hard.” He opens his lips again but shakes his head and doesn’t add anything. 

 

Charles wants to crawl to his feet and begs him to stay, but what’s the point? He stays awake in his bed for an hour, not thinking about anything in particular, when he suddenly grabs a pen on the bedside table and writes something on his own arm.

  
  


* * *

 

 

**1.**

 

Charles wakes up and sprawls on the bed. He’s so hungry, he’s going to devour a gigantic breakfast and it’s going to be perfect. He lifts his arms above his head and stops when he sees something written on it. 

 

_ Charles Xavier this is your last day to tell Erik Lehnsherr you love him. I know you met him once, I know you dragged him out of the water and barely talked to him but I know you love him already. And he loves you too, and when you told him he wasn’t alone anymore, it was true, because you were (and still are)(and will always be) each other’s.  _

_ Go and tell him you love him.  _

_ -Charles Xavier. _

 

Okay, that’s. Weird. Utterly. Did he really write that? Was he drunk last night? He breathes out in his hand and quickly smells it but it doesn’t smell like he smooched Jack Daniel’s all night long. Yes, Erik is very, very handsome but is he in love with him? Huh, he figures not, given the fact they barely spend time with each other. 

 

_ What the hell.  _

 

He gets up and leaves his room but he doesn’t see Erik and instead Jonathan asks him questions about his powers and soon it’s time for Charles to teach his class. 

 

He completely forgets about the note on his forearm until he goes back to his bedroom and sees Erik waiting in front of it.

 

“Erik”, he smiles, without knowing why.

 

“How are you?” Erik asks right away, staring at him.

 

“Fine… well, a bit dazed. Can you please come in, for a minute?”

 

They settle in Charles’ bedroom and he breathes in one last time to give himself the strength to roll up his sleeve. He shows the notes to Erik and sees the man actually  _ shiver _ . 

 

“Do you remember… anything?”

 

“Well I remember diving into a freezing water and trying to pull you out of it, but it was hard because you seem goddam stubborn,” Charles laughs and Erik’s hand is on his and his lips on his mouth.

 

_ What the hell, again.  _

 

But unlike the note it doesn’t feel weird. It actually feels like they did this already. 

 

“Erik, can you please tell me what’s going on?”

 

“It doesn’t matter. But I love you, Charles. Always have, always will. And I’ll never leave you again, I made you a promise.”

 

“Have you…? Left me before, I mean, I don’t…”

 

_ … Remember _ . He doesn’t say the word out loud. It feels like he said it so much it ended up hurting his throat like sandpaper. 

 

* * *

  
  


**0.**

 

Charles wakes up with the worst headache in the history. There’s water next to him so he drinks it and sighs. He hasn’t close the curtains last night. Maybe he took sleeping pills which were too strong. 

 

He draws himself a bath and waits for his temples to stop hurting him before he goes to eat a proper breakfast. It’s saturday so all the kids are still sleeping. He talks with a few teachers; bit by bit, his headache fades away. 

 

He still hasn’t see Hank and he figures out he must be outside given the beautiful sunshine. He drives through the terrace and then the pathway between the brushes. He never comes here anymore, he doesn’t know why and it’s stupid, because it’s nice to see the mansion from this point of view. 

 

He finally sees Hank and smiles before he accelerates. Hank is talking to someone that Charles can’t see because of a shrub in front of him.

 

“There you are,” Charles exclaims and Hank turns around, before he smiles at him.

 

“Good morning Charles. How are you?”

 

“Fine and you?” he asks, but his eyes are automatically attracted by the man standing next to his friend. “Can you present me?”

 

Hanks nods with a faint smile and turns around, “Charles, this is Erik Lehnsherr. He’s a new teacher here.”

 

“How marvellous, nice to meet you,” Charles says, stretching out a hand and Erik shakes it.

 

Charles’ heart stops for a single beat, lost between the sensation of that man’s hand on his but especially because of his beautiful eyes.

 

“I have to go. Please, Erik, tell me if you need anything,” Hanks tells him and salutes them before he takes the same pathway Charles took to come here.

 

Charles discreetly passes a hand on his hair to be sure he’s looking good next to that man -  _ Erik Lehnsherr  _ \- and blushes when Erik turns around to look at him again. Damn that  _ smile _ . 

 

“Where are you from?”

 

“Germany.”

 

“Oh… Well, I hope you’ll like it here.”

 

“Yeah, me too.”

 

They fall into silence again but it’s not awkward, it’s somehow quite fine. Until Charles feels the need to speak because he  _ always  _ needs to speak.

 

“Since my car accident, I never came on this part of the parc, actually. It’s a shame, because I didn’t even know we have myosotis here,” he glances at Erik and adds, “The blue flowers, right here. How are they called, in german?”

 

“ _ Vergiss mein nicht, _ ” Erik says with a smile that might be made of gold, for all that Charles knows.

 

“It a complicated word,” Charles laughs, feeling heat rising in his cheeks when Erik’s gaze doesn’t fix anything else but Charles’ eyes.

 

“It means,  _ Forget me not _ .” 

 

Charles smiles. It doesn’t think it’s possible to forget someone like Erik Lehnsherr.

 

* * *

 

…

* * *

 

 

**1.**

 

It’s almost Christmas and the kids are literally crazy about it. The mansion is decorated with the most fine decorations that some of them bought in New York, with Charles’ credit card. Everything is going so much easier now that the East aisle has been renovated, they even were able to welcome more teachers. There’s not a single day when Charles doesn’t wake up without feeling genuinely  _ happy. _

 

There’re a lot of card boxes in the hallway, but Charles will deal with that later as he doesn’t want to be late. He checks his tie in the gigantic mirror one last time and grins when he seeks Hank’s head peeking out of a door. 

 

“I can see you, you know.”

 

“How do you feel?” Hank nearly trots about to him.

 

“Good. A bit nervous. But it’s not the first time I’m going on a date, Hank.”

 

“I know but it’s different this time, it’s…”

 

“It’s Erik. Yes,” he smiles and drinks the words in before he nods, “It’s different, you’re right.” 

 

Hank looks at him a bit longer, with so much fondness it calms Charles’ nerves a bit. 

 

“He’s coming. Have a great evening, Charles.”

 

“Thank you, Hank.”

 

He looks at his friends climbing the stairs and turns around to see Erik walking toward him. They’re both wearing suits because Erik said he was taking Charles to a prestigious restaurant. It’s their first date after two months of tender and passionate courting. 

 

“Ready?” Erik asks and Charles smiles.

 

“Yes.”

  
Charles has the feeling Erik will finally kiss him and maybe they’ll spend the night together too. Charles is ready for that because Charles can’t wait to know what it feels like to love Erik like he never loved anyone before. 

**Author's Note:**

> End notes: If you want to know first how it ends before you start the story, note that Charles' memory is erased at the end, because he can't control it anymore. However, Erik stays by his side and they start a new relationship, even if Erik still remembers the Charles before his amnesia.
> 
> Please consider writing a comment if you liked the story :D  
> Kudos and bookmarks are very nice, but comments are utterly SO motivating. They fill my heart and soul with an indefinable joy and the desire to write and publish more and more!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [art inspired by Myosotis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8893006) by [Mikanskey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikanskey/pseuds/Mikanskey)




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